


Gift From the Gods

by CaptainOfDaShip



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Action, Bloodshed, Developing Relationship, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Forgiveness, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Retirement, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainOfDaShip/pseuds/CaptainOfDaShip
Summary: Au What would have gone differently in JW2 if Santino and John had shared a past? Could it change their future?





	Gift From the Gods

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of John Wick 3's release I finished this piece for all of you. (Plus I've been meaning to write another one for like a yr now XD) Santino & John had a relationship in the past which somehow ended with the marker…havent worked that out...Oh and as always I don't own the rights to these characters. Anyways Enjoy!

“It’s a blood oath John. You know what will happen if you decline.” 

“Find someone else.”

“Alright, you’re right. I’ll see you soon John.” 

Santino had hoped it wouldn’t have had to come to this but he always came prepared. As he opened the trunk of his car he lifted the grenade launcher and took aim at the house. It really was a beautiful house, what a waste. He shot one warning shot in, avoiding John’s location and then continued firing until he was empty. 

John knew Santino’s temperament but he hadn’t expected something this drastic. Even though he really should’ve. He ducked and ran out the back before the whole house could consume him in its flames. Now royally pissed off, the growing anger fueled his long walk to the continental. He went to seek advice from the only man left in this world that he trusted. He wanted Winston to talk him out of it, maybe even find some other solution but to no avail. The marker really was non negotiable, he took a cab this time to the museum.

There he was, the smaller man was sitting on a bench in front of a large very ornate painting. He stood back and took in his surroundings. He calculated how he could kill him, how long it would take to make his escape. But, he knew Winston was right. He had no choice. His eyes set back on that small figure staring absently at the painting before him. A lifetime ago he would love stroking his hand through those soft curly brown locks. But too much has gone wrong between them over the years. He shrug off his thoughts before they went further down into memory lane and strode in. 

“Isn’t it interesting how museums hold the most beautiful works of art? Art that’s filled with emotions, and yet the building itself feels cold. Empty. Detached. I come here to try to feel the art but in the end I feel hollow…This was my fathers collection.” 

He sighs and motions for John to sit down and join him. Reluctantly he obliged the man.

“I didn’t want to do this John. Had you stayed retired I would’ve respected it. I know what you’re thinking how would you do it i wonder? That man’s cane, that women’s pen?”

“My hands.”

“Oh how exciting. Yet you know you cannot can you? I told you I needed that guy. The way you’re looking at me right now.” 

“Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you to kill my sister.” 

“Why?”

“When my father died he gave the seat to her. She represents Camorra now.” 

“You want me to kill Gianna D’Antonio?”

“I could never do it, she’s my blood.” 

“It cant be done.” 

“She’s in Rome for her coronation.” 

“It doesn’t matter where she is.” 

“Do this for me and your marker is honored, what say you?”

John walks out without saying anything more, and Santino knew that was his quiet form of acceptance. It’s been years but he could still read the man like a book. He missed those quiet moments they spent together. Alas that was a lifetime ago. 

He goes through his routine of gathering supplies as if he was on autopilot. For all intent and purposes he felt like he was. Everything down to the gun choices, everything was the same. John knew the ins and outs of this world he left, like the back of his hand. But he was happy when he left it behind, when Helen came into his life. Before then he was a machine, but as much as he wanted to pin it all on her for changing him. He knew who really got the ball rolling. Santino was much younger then, naivety flowed thru his veins. And yet he was the first person to look at him and not expect anything in return. He was the first person that made him realize there was more to life than this. John stopped himself before he thought of him any further. It was all in the past and nothing good had ever come from drudging up ancient history. 

The catacomb’s plans were simple enough, and the lack of security in this whole area had him feeling suspicious. He made it to Gianna’s chambers easier than he thought, a little too easy. Gianna had suspected someone would come after her soon enough, once she got the chair. She just hadn’t expected it to be John, or for Santino to have sent him. She decided she had lived the way she had wanted and she’d be damned if she let anyone take the choice of her death away from her as well. John stared into the pool of water quickly turning red and sighed. She was a friend to him in the past, he didn’t want to have to do this. In respect of their friendship he closed her eyes and kissed the top of her head. 

John quickly left the chambers and tried his best to sneak through the crowd on his way to the catacombs to no avail. His luck was changing when he ran into an old acquaintance, Cassian. 

“John, are you working?” 

“Yeah.” 

Cassian sicked some guards on John’s tail as he ran to Gianna’s chambers. Hoping for all of the world that she somehow was still alive. Thankfully the guards weren’t well trained at all, and John disposed of them easily enough before running to the catacombs. Usually no one knew he was coming and he got in and out quickly, efficiently. But ever since he came back out of retirement he had begun to slip up, he had grown sloppy. In the underground he stopped when he saw Ace. Damn, he knew it was too easy. 

He knew it, that backstabbing bastard sent his men to kill him in the catacombs. Clean up loose ends. He had thought because of their history Santino would have at least spared him this trouble. But no such luck. He moved through each and every one of them sliced through them all like butter. One or two bullets managed to scrape him but nothing major. These men were just as bad as the ones earlier working with Cassian. He grabbed his assault rifle he had left in its hiding spot and mowed down anyone who tried to come close. And he ran, as well as a fifty year old could anyway. 

He stole a car and drove like a madman hoping that no one had followed him. Just when he thought he was out, a car came barreling into him. Cassian, was out for blood. He was a great fighter, getting the upper hand on him multiple times but thankfully their fight crashed them through the continental.

The rules of the continental had saved both of their lives. They sat there shoulder to shoulder drinking, Cassian was pissed that his ward was killed alongside his pride and good streak. John felt old and tired of all of the fighting, of all of the politics. Cassian gulped down his gin and vowed to kill John before leaving for his room. John also left for his room, no longer feeling the desire to drink. 

John sat in his room trying to relax before the big fight tomorrow. Wondering if he could just retire now in this very continental. But he knew that wasn’t in his cards. Just then the room phone rung and to his dismay, it was exactly who he didn’t want to speak with. 

“I’m sorry John, I needed it to look like I was avenging her murder.” 

He didn’t want to hear another word from that little prick’s mouth and hung the phone up angrily. However little did John know, that Santino had called from his private jet. Santino knew John hadn’t wanted to see him, but he needed to desperately. There were so many things left unsaid between them, plus the added guilt of the marker and trying to kill him. He wanted to apologize for everything, to talk about their past, but he had no idea where to start. 

Hours later in the middle of the night John heard a knock at the door. Groaning the older man grabbed his gun from his bedside and stalked the door. 

“John I’m sorry to wake you. I wanted to see you.” 

Reluctantly John cracked the door open and saw there were no guards with him. He could easily kill him, oh but that’s right the rules. In his sleepless haze he had almost forgotten. John makes to close the door on the Italian when a foot stops him. 

“Wait please let me say what I came here to say.” 

The door opened and John made no move to let him in. 

“I know you would come out alive that’s why I didn’t send my best men. I needed to make it look like I was avenging family. I don’t expect you to forgive me John. But here, a peace offering.” 

Santino pulled out a picture of Helen that he had previously swiped from John’s house and handed it to him. 

“How?”

“Before I left your house that day I took it. I thought it would be a shame to lose all memory of her.” 

Santino knew John wasn’t going to let him in to talk. He still haven’t even figured out where to start. Or if there really was anything that could be said anymore. He turns to leave but stops in his track. 

“Do you remember that day?” 

“…Yes.”

“If things hadn’t gone the way they had, would you still be with me?” 

“…yes.”

Santino’s back is to him. He holds back a sob as tears roll down his face. He thanks whatever god there is that his voice doesn’t waiver. 

“Maybe I’m getting sentimental in my age. But I’ve missed you.” 

“So have I.” 

The Italian couldn’t hold it back this time, his breath hitched. He knew he had to be stronger now that he has the seat at the table. But around John his emotions always ran haywire. 

John hadn’t known what to do. Yes he had loved Santino in the past, but things between them got so complicated it had to end. Then he met Helen and he knew he had to throw everything aside to protect her. But it doesn’t mean he ever stopped loving this man before him. He was surprised to see him after so long, but not for the reason. After the marker was complete he figured he’d go back into retirement. What he didn’t account for was this confession from Santino, and from himself. He doesn’t know what he had expected to come from this confession. But on some bizarre unknown to him instinct he went up to Santino and held him. Helen would do this for him whenever he had bad days. Yes, maybe Helen had made him into a better person. Santino holds onto Johns shirt and finally stops crying. He pulls back and tries to pull himself together.

“Look at us, aren’t we a sight to see? John I know I have no right to ask this of you but-”

Before he could finish the sentence the taller man swooped down and silenced him with a kiss. Lips as soft as he had remembered. His hand flew to those chocolate curls he had wanted to touch earlier. The Italian groaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss. Santino figured if this was the last time, he’s going to take all of it. He pushed John into the room and closed the door. Kisses grew heated as John silently directed them towards his room. Secretly deep down they each knew that they had been craving this. Neither dared to break for air, too much time had already been lost. It wasn’t until the back of Johns knees hit the bed did they break as Santino pushed him down onto it. The taller man crawled up the bed as Santino followed him like an animal stalking its prey. 

“What do you want Santino?” 

“Everything.” 

He swooped down and planted his lips on John’s already feeling like too much time had passed since they were connected. Hands flew everywhere as the Italian started grinding down onto the clothed erection below him. There were too many articles of clothing barring Santino from his ultimate desire. He made quick work of his suit throwing them over the bed into a pile. John made for his own pants when hands smacked them away. 

“Let me.” 

Santino’s hands expertly navigated John’s belt and swiftly pulled the pants and undergarments down. Showcasing what the Italian had dreamt of, the member stood proudly as Santino licked his lips and descended upon it. His cheeks hollowed as he made his way down the shaft. The once quiet assassin, now less so. Santino would have smirked that he could make the great John Wick moan for him, but he was too busy with his task at hand. Feeling the desire for more he licked his way up the shaft and stopped. 

“Do you have any-”

“Lotion in the bathroom.” 

“Winston really does take good care of his guests.” 

Santino ran off to the bathroom and returned with the bottle faster than John could blink. 

He straddled the assassin’s waist and poured the cream onto his fingers before plunging them into his hole. One finger soon became two. 

“Can I?” 

“Of course.” 

Larger slicked fingers dove into his aching hole and began to scissor him open. Santino hadn’t done this since they were last together. He felt tight, and soon enough three thick fingers were impaling him. The stretched painful feeling soon melted away into pure blissful lust. Soon enough the Italian’s hips began pushing back onto those fingers. 

“John I wont last please.” 

“Please,” it wasn’t often that John had heard Santino beg. Santino slicked the large member before him and directed it to his quivering hole. His whole body ached for him, there wasn’t anyone who could undo him like John. First the head then the shaft slowly breached him, John had wanted to go slow but Santino wasn’t having any of it. He sank down until his cheeks met strong thighs. Large hands held his hips as the taller man pistoned up as Santino sank down A slow but steady rhythm built up faster and faster. Before he knew it Santino was bouncing on that thick cock, loving every minute of it. His hand moved to his own leaking member when John batted it away. John had wanted him to come untouched and not so secretly Santino loved it when he took charge. 

“More, Mio Amore!” John grabbed the smaller man and none too gracefully flipped him onto his back. 

“Look at me.”

Santino’s eyes flew open at the command, and once more John had fallen into those mines of emerald. He was absolutely smitten, and he had no idea how he would ever live without this man again. Legs stretched around the trim waist and held on for dear life as hips pistoned into him. Neither had felt such bliss such ecstasy in years. So much so that it was driving them both mad. Santino felt like his eyes might roll back soon as sultry moans poured from him. John was no longer anything other than an animal doing the only thing he knew how to do, drive forward. A pressure built up inside of Santino and his muscles clenched down on the member inside of him as loads of cum spilled out painting his chest. The tight heat was getting to be too much for John and after a few more thrusts his seed filled Santino. 

 

\----Two weeks later----

 

In a bedroom overlooking the New York Skyline laid two lovers. Luxurious green silk the color of the Italian’s eyes covered them as they slept. John had awoken hours ago, out of habit, and was happy to simply take in the sight of his lover. Golden streaks of light filled the room landing on his love, encompassing him in an ethereal glow. After his wife he had felt that all that was waiting for him was death. But here, the man who had once first showed him there is more to life, is once again his. He stroked soft curls as Santino slept on. Green eyes as bright as gemstones opened accompanied with a lazy smile. 

“Good morning Mio Amore.” 

“Good morning.” 

“You really are an early bird.” 

“Habit.” 

Santino stretched like a lazy feline and pulled John to him placing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. 

“I have to get ready”

“Big day?” 

“Yes, you know you could join me if you want something to do.” 

“I’m retired what we have wont change that. I wont work for you.” 

“I know, just thought you might be bored and want someone to fight to get your blood pumping. You could spar with Ace or Cassian.”

“I’m alright.” 

“Okay.” 

As Santino got dressed to leave he stops to take a look at the quiet figure. God he loves this man. He knew in his heart that being with John was a gift from the gods. 

“I love you John Wick.” 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Google says "My Love" in Italian is "Mio Amore" feel like that is wrong, but who knows. I don't speak Italian.


End file.
